


I don't love you

by jdphoenix



Series: I don't love you [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-09 23:26:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3268211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdphoenix/pseuds/jdphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma wants nothing more than to be done with this conversation and is certain that when she is, she'll have broken herself of the desire to look in on Grant Ward ever again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I don't love you

**Author's Note:**

> [SafelyCapricious](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SafelyCapricious/pseuds/SafelyCapricious) kindly gave me permission to write a follow-up to her [it was all an act](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3262487/chapters/7114685), so you'll want to read that first.

"Simmons?" Coulson's voice is soft and gentle but it might as well be an angry yell the way Jemma startles back from the computer.

She was just about to open the feed from Vault D. She didn't plan on coming down here to look but it seems her body remembers the routines of the Playground even after all these months. She woke up earlier than she did in her days working for HYDRA, just early enough to dress and grab a cup of coffee before coming down to see Ward wake himself up precisely on time.

"Would you take a seat?" Coulson asks, gesturing to the chair she just vacated.

She glances at the clock as she lowers into the creaky seat. He'll have woken up by now, assuming he's still as impossibly punctual as before. She's not sure whether the feeling tugging at her gut is relief or annoyance that she's missed it, and so chooses to blame it on the weak coffee.

"Simmons," Coulson says again, just as soft, just as caring. He's brought a chair around in front of her while she's been woolgathering. She shakes her head to get the wandering thoughts in line; he's obviously sought her out for a reason and she needs to give it her full attention.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir," she mutters off quickly. She brushes imaginary dust off her lap before lacing her fingers atop it. "You were saying?"

He seems uncomfortable, unsure of how to sit or where to place his hands. She's well and truly worried by the time he speaks again.

"I need to apologize."

Of course. She nearly died escaping HYDRA and he feels responsible, but she thought they were done with all that last night.

"It's quite all right," she says and reaches out to lay a comforting hand on his arm.

He pulls back from the contact, leaning into his chair. "This isn't about HYDRA. While you were gone, I-" He runs a hand through his thinning hair. "You remember how Ward was before you left."

He seems ready to elaborate and she holds up a hand. She does not need a reminder - she remembers well enough watching him almost die by his own hand time and time again. She doesn't think she'll ever be able to forget it in fact.

"Right," Coulson says. "Well, you also remember what he was saying, that he just wanted the chance to be part of the team again. I needed to know if he was sincere."

Jemma frowns in confusion. How could he possibly test Ward's sincerity without giving him the chance to prove himself? Coulson would never actually _let him out_ would he? A cold numbness washes over her and she holds her breath as she waits for him to relieve her fears.

"He used you - before. And I'm sorry to say I used you now."

She shakes her head, even more uncertain now of what he's on about.

"He said he genuinely cared about the team, that he was loyal to _us_ now, so it seemed the best way to test that was with the one person he-" His voice catches and he seems to brace himself for his next words. "He seemed to care about the least."

She nods slowly, understanding. There was a time when she thought - when they all thought, likely - that Ward cared for her above all the rest of them. But that was before he admitted it was all a lie. All his kind and loving words; the way he would keep physical contact with her after danger had passed, even when he'd already assured himself she was alive and well; the nights he snuck into her bunk and silenced her guilty laughter with lingering kisses - it was all a carefully crafted lie meant to get him access to her research and put the team off his scent. He hadn't cared about her, had in fact cared about her so little that he was willing to manipulate her so completely.

But that still doesn't explain how Coulson thinks _he's_ used her.

"I'm afraid I don't understand," she says.

He sighs heavily. "While you were gone, I tested whether or not he really cared by telling him you had died."

"Oh."

He seems rather surprised by her lack of reaction and while she can't say she doesn't understand why, she's not entirely certain what her reaction _should_ be. Grant Ward - the man she was in love with only a few short months ago, who she thought loved her in return, who dropped her out of a plane - that man now thinks she is dead. Or did, at any rate.

"I suppose it didn't go as planned," she says, slightly ashamed of how soft her voice comes out. She feels a bit like she did when she lost sight of him as the medpod fell from the plane: too heavy and hollow all at once.

She's not _surprised_ of course. Even if she had the slightest doubts remaining, he's talked of nothing but Skye since arriving. Jemma was nothing to him, save an unfortunate assignment that got in the way of his personal goals.

She only hopes his act failed before Coulson did something truly foolish like letting him loose or getting his own hopes up. They've all had enough disappointment lately to last them a lifetime.

"It was bad timing that did it, I think," Coulson goes on, though she's only half-listening now.

She wants nothing more than to be done with this conversation and is certain that when she is, she'll have broken herself of the desire to look in on Grant Ward ever again.

"I told him just before you sent us word about Donnie. He didn't believe me, said there was no way I would've waited so long to throw it in his face. I thought that was the end of it. I didn't tell him the truth, but he didn't believe me so what was the point?"

"He didn't care," she says, the words tearing at her throat and coming so softly Coulson doesn't even hear them.

"But while the team was trying to bring Donnie in, Fitz snuck down to Vault D."

"Oh no," Jemma gasps, part of her hoping Coulson will smile and tell her it's all a cruel joke. _Fitz_ facing Ward after all he's been through? She reminds herself that she saw Fitz only hours ago. He's alive. He's fine. Whatever Ward may have said or done, Fitz has moved past it.

"It nearly killed him."

An animal noise pulls from deep within Jemma. "Of course it did!" There are tears in her eyes and she's clutching her stomach like a frightened mother. "After all Ward's done to him, I can't imagine how it must've hurt him to find out he's _here_ , in our _home_."

"Simmons." Coulson's hand finds her elbow, the pressure just enough to bring her focus back to him. "I mean it nearly killed _Ward_. Fitz- he- he cut off the oxygen to the cell, to give Ward a taste of what happened to him, I think."

Jemma puts her hand to her mouth to hold back another inhuman cry. Fitz - sweet, innocent Fitz who builds weapons to incapacitate but never to kill, who can't even bear to be in the same room while she examines a body - was reduced to cold murder.

"I don't think he would have done it. He only meant to scare Ward. But…"

"What?" What more could there possibly be to say? Isn't this enough to lay in her lap for one interview?

"Seeing Fitz like he is now … and so soon after I told him you were dead …" Coulson lets out a heavy breath. His shoulders sag under the weight of his burdens and he looks far older than his years. "I've tried telling him you're alive, that it really was all a lie, but he won't believe me. If you're alive, why can't he see you?"

Cold fear returns, gripping her tight. He wouldn't ask her to go see him? Not simply to prove she's alive to a man who doesn't care either way?

"Only problem is, I think he _does_ \- in a way. He's been talking to … to someone. Even when we turn the barrier to opaque he acts like it's not there at all, keeps looking in the direction of the chair we keep down there and talking like there's someone answering."

"You think he's … _hallucinating_ me? But why would he? He doesn't-" She clamps her mouth shut. She meant to say he doesn't _care_ but she could feel the "love" twisting her tongue. Of course he doesn't love her, never did, but there's no reason to dwell on it any longer than she already has.

"It's you," he says, so certain she's afraid to know why. He leans forward and places a hand on her knee. "Look, Simmons. I know you don't want to see him ever again and we both know, even if you never said it, you only ever treated him because it was an emergency and he was unconscious. So you don't have to go down there. Frankly, if he really is … seeing things, losing his mind over you is probably exactly what that bastard deserves. But-"

"But he's only here in hopes he can help us. He can't exactly do that if he's playing insane."

Something in Coulson's expression says he doesn't agree with her assessment. For whatever reason he genuinely believes his experiment worked and, for once, Ward is proving true.

"I'm going to go down now, try to convince him again that you're not dead. You don't have to come with me, but I'd like you to watch."

She nods once, not sure she can do more than the minimum at the moment, and relief makes Coulson smile. He stands and then waits, apparently for her. She could easily watch the exchange from here, but Coulson no doubt wants her at the vault in case what she sees spurs her to follow him down. She's already agreed though, so there's nothing for it but to join him.

The room she uses to observe Ward isn't too far from Vault D - which is lucky for him since she's the one who found him when he first attempted to take his own life - so it's not surprising that they see no one in the short distance they walk. Besides, even with all the time they've been talking, it's still very early in the morning.

"Even if I'll see him - _if_ ," she emphasizes, "you aren't thinking of letting him out, are you?" She doesn't want to have to ask but the fear of it has been nagging at her all through their conversation.

"Never," he says so readily she can't doubt him.

At the door, he activates the wall panel and the screen lights up to show the security feed from inside. Ward is exactly where she expected him to be: in the middle of morning push-ups.

She expects Coulson to head inside but he only waits and soon enough she sees Ward begin to slow and stumble. His head twists towards the barrier as though he's hearing something annoying from beyond it. All at once he jumps to his feet and rushes at it, arms wide and mouth working. He stops just short of striking it, but it's a near thing. She can't hear him but she can see well enough that he's yelling. His tirade cuts out suddenly and he twists his face away like he's been struck.

She startles when she hears a faint beep, only to realize she caused it by tapping the volume control.

"You know by now- you _have_ to know- I didn't-" He cuts off abruptly, screwing his eyes shut against whatever he's hearing. Then, in slow, measured tones, "The medpods are designed to be dropped in emergency conditions." And again his breath catches and his muscles tense while he only stands and takes whatever his subconscious is dealing out.

Or whatever he wants them to think his subconscious is dealing out, she reminds herself. But that's a weak argument in the face of … of _this_.

The vault door slides gently open and Coulson gives her shoulder a squeeze before passing through and leaving her alone in the still, cold hallway.

"You won't listen!" Ward yells. "He was going to-" He catches sight of Coulson coming down the stairs and takes half a step back from the barrier, allowing it to fade from angry yellow to invisibility.

"Ward," Coulson says.

As he passes by the chair he makes a point of trailing his hand through the space the phantom Jemma would occupy. Ward doesn't seem to need it though, he's already looking with confusion between Coulson and the chair.

"You know Simmons isn't here." It's not quite a question but it's not _not_ either.

Ward stands a little straighter, almost going so far as to shift to parade rest. "Of course she's not here. She's dead."

"She's _not_. We've been over this-"

Ward cuts him off viciously. "If she wasn't dead, she'd be here. At the base. With the team. But you keep saying she's not, which means she has to be-" He stops himself and runs a hand through his ragged hair as he turns away.

"Actually, she is here."

Ward freezes. Every muscle in his body tenses like an animal ready to spring. When he does move, it's in a slow, measured turn - not towards Coulson but towards the stairs and the door. Outside, Jemma shifts to the right, as if somehow he can see her through layers of metal and concrete.

His throat works and slowly the strength goes out of his muscles. "You're lying," he says and turns his back.

"I'm not. We brought her back in last night."

"Then where is she!" Ward yells, holding his arms wide to take in the empty vault. "Why isn't she here, _proving_ what you've been saying all these weeks?"

Coulson glances towards the stairs and this time Jemma keeps her feet firmly planted on the ground.

"Why do you think?" Coulson asks. "She left to get away from you and now that she's back do you really expect her to come down here just to give you some peace of mind?" He shakes his head. "I only thought you should know."

He leaves Ward standing in his tiny cell. By the time the door opens, Ward's already started talking to his phantom again.

Jemma doesn't bother to say anything to Coulson's questioning look. He said it all well enough himself just now.


End file.
